Dragon Riders Redux
by EleanorLovett55
Summary: Formerly known as The Curious Tale of The Prince of Alamut and The Princess of Illyria. Prince Sweeney and Princess Eleanor are set to be married as a policy of the peace treaty signed between their fathers. A ride into the woods and an unexpected find will change their lives forever. Sweenett.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This storyline just wouldn't leave me alone, so here it is. Leave a review below!**

XXX

A thousand battle cries surrounded them, as the two armies attacked each other. Prince Sweeney took down foe after foe, a whirling force to be reckoned with in the Alamutian ranks.

"Behind you, brother!"

He spun, ready to face the oncoming foe, only to see a pure black stallion bearing down on him. The rider had a sword levelled at his head, and he did the only thing he could think of. He batted the sword away with his own, though, to his dismay, the rider held fast to it, and hooked one foot in the stirrup, using it to launch himself at his attacker so that they both fell to the ground. The Illyrian rider rolled and pushed him off of him, quickly retrieving his blade before facing him. Sweeney could only see their eyes, flashing hazel, for the rest of his face was covered by a thick cloth. He was also dismayed, to find that the person wielded not only one sword, but two, curved and obviously Alamutian in make. He frowned in confusion, before the person was on the offence again, pressing him back from the direction he came.

He pushed back, quickly realizing that his foe was formidable. While he focused on brute strength to overwhelm his enemies, this person, (admittedly shorter than he), was quicker on their feet, more docile in blocking and following with attacks. He soon found that he was thrown to the dirt more than once during their fight. Just as he felt as though he would be unable to rise from the mud again to continue fighting, the Alamutian retreat horn was sounded. He looked up into the eyes of his attacker, wondering if they would still run him through with their sword. However, he merely rolled his eyes, whistled loudly with two fingers for his horse, and then rode back to Illyria.

Sweeney felt like he had bruises on his bruises, and carefully, staggeringly, he dragged himself to his feet, and back into their camp.

XXX

"My Lord, King Ferdinand is arriving in a matter of minutes. He wishes to negotiate over the war," a servant stated breathlessly as he interrupted the King's afternoon tea with his daughter.

Abraham looked worriedly over at the young Princess, who frowned delicately. He patted her shoulder lightly, consolingly.

"Never fear, my dear, I shall return shortly," he told her, dropping a kiss to her head before leaving the room.

"King Ferdinand is here, My Lord, in the throne room," another servant said as they entered the antechamber.

"Of course. Let us receive him," Abraham said, although not without a hint of worry in his voice.

"King Ferdinand," Abraham said as he swept into the throne room, "excuse me for not receiving you earlier. To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"King Abraham. I have some negotiations I'd like us both to go through. War has rampaged both our countries for long enough. It is high time for us to settle this without more bloodshed," Ferdinand said, his tone not friendly, but not one of hatred either.

"I agree completely. Come, follow me," Abraham replied, gesturing to the other king.

They sat at the long table Abraham reserved for when there were guests in the palace in another chamber.

"Well, what are you negotiating, King Ferdinand?" Abraham asked as they were seated.

"I believe that our kingdoms will benefit from a bond closer than that of friendship- marriage," Ferdinand said, looking to the other man.

"Marriage?" Abraham asked, a furrow forming between his eyes.

"Yes. Between our children," Ferdinand replied.

"While it may seem beneficial, I remind you, King Ferdinand, that my daughter- the sole heir to the throne of Illyria- cannot marry your son. She must remain here, to rule efficiently, as she has been taught to," Abraham said, trying to keep the steel out of his voice.

"Yes, I understand that, King Abraham," Ferdinand said, reclining leisurely in his chair, " but I wasn't speaking of my first born son. Nor my second. They are both married. Rather, I spoke of my third."

"Your third? I was unaware; excuse my brashness. And if they are wed? What sort of peace treaty shall we draw up?" Abraham asked.

"Alamut and Illyria will forever remain bound as friends and allies. This is a wise choice, my friend, I have heard that there have been stirrings in the South, who knows what else may come in the future. I believe that our two kingdoms can withstand any trouble that comes if we fight together," Ferdinand told the other king, who was stroking his beard in thought.

"Ah. So that is why you wish for peace with Illyria. You have given me much to think of, King Ferdinand. Allow me some time to make my decision, and I shall send word on the morrow," Abraham told him.

"Of course. On the morrow then, King Abraham. Farewell," Ferdinand said as he shook hands with Abraham.

"Of course. Farewell, King Ferdinand," Abraham replied distractedly.

Abraham returned to the garden, where his daughter and future Queen of Illyria was waiting for him to return. She looked up expectantly when she heard him enter.

"Father? What is it? Are those ruffians going to attack the Palace?" she asked, looking at him in worry.

"No, my child. King Ferdinand desires a peace treaty with us," he replied as he sat down heavily.

"On what terms? It seems very unlikely of him," she said as she looked at him carefully with her striking hazel eyes.

"I know. King Ferdinand wishes for us to be united in order to prepare for attacks he thinks are stirring in the South. And he wishes for our unity to take the form of a marriage between our two houses. Specifically, between you and his third son," he told her with a heavy sigh.

She looked away from him, putting down the teacup which had been halfway to her lips.

"I see," was all she said.

"My child, you do not have to do this, I am sure we can work out another arrangement with the Alamutians," her father tried to tell her.

"I know, Father. But I will agree. You told me once that a good ruler thinks of their kingdom, and not of themselves. Well, I'm thinking of our kingdom, and I'm thinking of all the wives who have lost their husbands, children who have lost fathers, the food shortages and hunger. And I know that I cannot force the people of our kingdom to continue to suffer as they have. Not when the power to reverse it lies with me," she said diplomatically, her chin raised high, despite the fact that her fingers twisted nervously in her lap.

Her father gave her a quivering smile. "My dear, you shall make a wonderful ruler of Illyria. I hope I am still here to see you bring our kingdom to an age of prosperity," he told her, reaching over and clasping one of her hands in his, and kissing her temple briefly.

She gave him a slightly wan smile, before excusing herself to her chambers.

When she arrived there, she leant her back against the door, looking up at the ceiling with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. She was being forced to marry one of those coarse princes of Alamut. Have him sleep in her bed, and sit next to her throne, ruling by her side as King Consort of Illyria. She shuddered at the thought, and feeling uncomfortable and irritated, she carefully peeled out of her clothes, not bothering to call for a maid to help her, slipped into her nightgown and dropped into her bed.

XxX  
"King Abraham has accepted the treaty that was presented to him. From this evening Alamut and Illyria shall be united as allies and then as friends with your marriage, my son," Ferdinand said to his three sons.

"Good luck, brother. I've heard the Princess of Illyria is a scornful old hag," Edward, the second prince told his brother.

"On the contrary, brother, I've heard that she is incomparably beautiful," Richard, the eldest said.

"Regardless of her beauty or ugliness, Sweeney will be marrying the Princess so that both kingdoms will not have to worry about war with each other, and can stand united to face the Southern stirrings," the King said sternly.

"I've heard she's feisty, with a tongue that can scald like hot water or slather sweetness that can make your teeth ache," Edward continued.

"I have a duty brother, and seeing that both you bastards are already married, I will take on this so called beautiful hag with enough boldness for both kingdoms," Sweeney said.

"Enough of your meaningless banter, sons. We are to meet with King Abraham and the Princess shortly after noon, and you must all be presentable. Go and clean yourselves up, and Sweeney, try to wear something other than your armour, please?" Ferdinand interjected, sending the three Princes on their way.

XxX

"With the signing of this treaty, Alamut and Illyria shall be forever united, not only in the bonds of friendship, but in the bonds of marriage! The marriage of Prince Sweeney of Alamut and Princess Eleanor of Illyria shall mirror the close bonds our two great kingdoms shall share forevermore!"

It was a joyous day for the two kingdoms. The war that had taxed both heavily was now over, and the Alamutians and Illyrians danced, drank and laughed with each other in the streets. In the palace a lavish banquet was hosted, and this was where Prince Sweeney first glimpsed his soon to be wife.

He assumed that that was who she is, for she was seated regally next to King Abraham. He knew immediately, that Edward's source was wrong, for there was no way that anyone could have ever described her as an ugly hag. Her hair was ruby red, and curled elegantly from where it was pinned behind her head. Her eyes were hazel, and they shone with intelligence and wit, complementing her alabaster skin. If anything, her mere appearance could have probably made his teeth ache with sweetness. He swallowed dryly, his eyes glued to her figure.

"Seems I was wrong, eh brother?" Edward said as he appeared next to him, nudging his shoulder and sipping his wine, his eyes on the princess too.

"It seems so," Sweeney mumbled vaguely.

"Smitten already, little brother?" Edward chuckled into his cup.

He snapped his eyes to his. "Of course not. She's just another beautiful woman. I've seen many," he replied stubbornly.

"Of course," Edward replied sarcastically with a smirk, rolling his eyes, "look, there goes your princess for a breath of fresh air now. Why don't you go over and speak to her?"

"Maybe I will," the younger brother replied with his chin stuck in the air.

Princess Eleanor stood on the balcony in the night air, savouring the coolness compared to the hot stifling air inside the palace. She looked out at the stars and sighed softly, shutting her eyes.

"Princess?"

She spun in surprise, her eyes wide as she took in the tall figure standing in front of her.

"Forgive me, I didn't mean to startle you," he said gently.

She tipped her chin up in the air. "Who said I was startled?" she asked, one perfectly manicured eyebrow rising.

He chuckled. "Well, you spun so quickly, I just assumed I did," he replied.

"Haven't you ever heard of what happens when you assume things? You make and ass of you and me," she quipped back. "Besides, I didn't think anyone would follow me out here, since they're too busy drinking their night away. I can't imagine the headache my father will wake up with in the morning."

Richard's source was correct. She was perhaps the feistiest woman he had ever come across, and it was most intriguing.

"Forgive me Princess, but do you know whom you are speaking to?" he asked.

"Of course I do, Prince Sweeney. And it would do you well to remember that in Illyria women are the equals of men. I'll not tolerate a marriage where I am seen as an ornament and not a woman and ruler," she told him crisply.

He held his hands up in surrender.

"Forgive me if I've offended you, Princess. I meant no harm," he replied.

"I would hope so," she muttered, turning to face the night sky again.

Sweeney frowned. He couldn't understand why she was being so cold. They were to be married in less than a week, and she was a regal (if beautiful) ice queen.

"Look, if you didn't want to get married, why did you agree?" he asked, his voice colouring with his annoyance.

"Like I'd let my father pass up an opportunity for peace when I'm watching our people starve and suffer the effects of this long drawn out war," she snorted.

Sweeney stayed quiet, staring at her back. She suddenly sighed and ran a hand over her face tiredly.

"What seems to really be troubling you, Princess?" he asked.

"Is that concern I hear in your voice?" she asked, turning to him, and he was surprised to see the teasing glint in her hazel eyes.

"Never. I was merely wondering what put you in such a foul mood," he replied, stunned by her beauty against the night sky.

She arched a brow. "I would have thought a Prince of Alamut knew how to lie better," she said with a smirk. "And that they also knew when to stop staring."

"I-I was most certainly not staring, and definitely not at you," Sweeney replied through gritted teeth.

She took two steps forward, till there was only enough space for a thin book to pass between them.

"Well there must be a reason why you can't take your eyes off me," she quipped, arching a brow with a small smirk. With that she carefully stepped around him and walked back inside. Sweeney stood there for a good few minutes, trying to regain his senses after what had just happened. He shook his head, and with a small smirk in the corner of his mouth, he too walked back inside.

**A/N: Nellie's character in this one was influenced by Lady Sif from ****_Thor_****, and a bit of Princess Tamina from ****_Prince of Persia._**** Yes, yes, I did. Because badass Nellie kicking Sweeney's ass is cool. Deal with it ;P Review please!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you, sole reviewer. You made my day :3 In this chapter: Sweeney gets his ass handed to him (again) and the Prince and bond a little.**

**Enjoy and review!**

XXX

"Well, inside is the best training facility Illyria has ever built, I hope you will find it to your standards," his guide, George said.

He snorted in his head, nothing would make me happier than to kick someone's ass right about now, Sweeney thought to himself.

"Er, thank you George, yes, I'm sure I will. Excuse me," Sweeney said, sidestepping the young man and going inside.

"Er, your highness, wait! Oh, well, hopefully the Princess isn't training this morning," George mumbled to himself, turning around to tend to his other duties.

Sweeney stopped in his tracks the minute he set foot into the room. The Princess of Illyria was training inside. He long red hair was tied into a long ponytail on the top of her head, and she was wearing leggings, a fitted long sleeved shirt and a leather corset, accompanied with two curved swords. The last detail was what caught him most off guard. Two curved swords! The Illyrian who bested him!

He watched as she knocked the guard training with her off his feet, allowing him to land with a heavy thud on his back.  
"Nice try, Kieran," she said with a laugh, "better luck next time."

"With you Princess? I don't think there'll be a next time," he said with a groan as he sat up, causing her to laugh again.

"You!" Sweeney said as he strode over.

"Me?" she said in a confused, slightly annoyed tone.

"You're the one that bested me in battle!"

"I suppose I am," she said thoughtfully, "Why, did you want a rematch?"

"No, I most certainly did not! How does your father even allow you into battle?! You're a woman!" he raged as he looked down on her.

Her eyes narrowed at him. Her mouth set in a thin line.

"It would do you well to remember, that this woman, bested even the likes of you. Prince Sweeney, Lion of Alamut!" she mocked, "I wonder how you came by that name. All I saw on the battlefield was a mere cub."

His nostrils flared and his hands clenched as she mocked him.

"How did you come by your weaponry then? Perhaps the great Illyria is now forging weapons in an attempt to imitate the superior Alamutian ones?" he sneered.

She stomped viciously on his foot, and using his moment of weakness, used the flat of her blades to sweep him off his feet and land with a dull thump on the floor. She jabbed her sword point against his throat.

"Your weaponry may be sturdier, but I daresay they'll do nothing if the wielder is an ignorant, conceited bastard," she replied smoothly. "If you must know, Lion of Alamut, our two kingdoms were once quite friendly. The King of Alamut himself sent these swords for my grandmother, and it was she who gifted them to me and taught me to fight. Many people believe women to be incapable of wielding swords? Well, as you have so clearly seen, we tend to wield them with a finesse that you men lack. It was my great-great-grandmother's idea, teaching the female heirs to protect themselves, you know. Just as it is your cockiness which will one day be your downfall."

She removed her sword and started walking away, when she felt something catch her boot and she stumbled forward. She rolled to her side only to realize that it was his hand which had tripped her.

"How noble! Attacking one when their back is turned! Tell me, did a monkey teach you proper etiquette, little cub?" she mocked angrily, raising her foot and kicking him viciously in the head. He grunted and twisted her ankle, pulling her away from where one of her swords slid across the marble floor.

He grabbed it up and turned to find her bearing down on him, swiftly slashing and stabbing, which caused him to defend himself equally as swiftly. She hooked the tip of her blade in the hilt of his sword and twisted, successfully knocking his weapon out of his hand. She smirked and was on the offense again, but he proved too fast and twisted her wrist, forcing her to drop her sword. She stomped on his foot again, and he doubled in pain. However, he quickly recovered and was using his advantage of strength to overpower her. After much punching and slashing of fists and feet, Sweeney had her pinned to the the ground on her stomach. Eleanor was just about to break away to try another tactic when the two doors opened to find the two kings standing there.

"Eleanor! What the devil is going on here?!" Abraham yelled.

"Sweeney! Is that anyway I taught you to treat a lady?!" Ferdinand shouted at his son.

Sweeney hastily stood, and Eleanor flung herself over onto her back, sitting up and folding her arms. As soon as the young prince was unsteadily on his feet, she lashed out with her legs, knocking him down again. He glared at her, but she only offered him a cool stare in return.

Eleanor rolled her eyes and pushed herself to her feet, snatching her swords from the floor and sheathing both at her sides.

"Will somebody explain what on earth was going on?" Abraham asked in irritated confusion.

"I will when someone explains to this gorilla next to me why the Princesses of Illyria are trained in combat. And to stop being such an idiot about being bested by a woman," Eleanor replied coldly, glaring at Sweeney as she folded her arms over her chest.

"Yes, please, Abraham, explain to me why the Princess of Illyria is trained in combat," Ferdinand asked curiously.

"It has been ongoing since my own grandmother. Since the female heirs to the throne are just as important, it was decided that they too needed military training. Ever since, the Princesses of Illyria have been trained in both military tactics and combat. Princess Eleanor was indeed present at the battle a few days ago to lead our army," Abraham replied, "There are no gender biases here; we understand that both sexes are equally important. Women are welcome to join our armies, though few do. Many find war and bloodshed distasteful."

"Fascinating. And you bested my son, my dear?" Ferdinand asked.

"You mean the Cub of Alamut? Indeed I did. He was well fought in the beginning, but with fatigue comes failure. And so he inevitably failed," Eleanor replied nonchalantly.

"That would indeed explain why you came back to the tent covered in mud, my son. She has indeed handed your rump to you," Ferdinand commented with a smile in his green eyes. Sweeney narrowed his eyes as he saw the wench smirking out of the corner of his eye.

"Lovely as this is, I think I'll go for a ride. Excuse me, my lords, Prince Sweeney," she said as she bowed and left the room, leaving him to glare hatefully at her, and admire her well shaped bum in her tight leggings.

Abraham chuckled. "My daughter. She'd love you as easily as she'd kill you," he hummed. Ferdinand laughed too.

"It seems you have your work cut out for you son. Why don't you follow the Princess and apologise. We come from different cultures, it would do well to keep in mind that the Princess is just as important if not more so that you yourself, my son," Ferdinand said.

Sweeney bristled but did as he was told, going down to the stables to saddle his horse, Thor.

XXX

The Princess was brushing down her pure black stallion, and Sweeney tried not to let his distaste for her well up too much.

"And wherever are you off to?" she asked conversationally, looking at him over her horse's back. She was so short he could only see from her lips up.

"As much as I'd like to tell you anywhere away from you, I've been told to accompany you on your ride," he replied shortly as he saddled Thor.

"Oh? I thought I'd proved myself capable of my own protection," she said with a small frown.

"I come not for your protection," he told her curtly, "in case you haven't noticed, Princess, we are to be married next week. I'd rather not have to sleep with a knife under my pillow wondering if you'll kill me in my sleep."

She snorted. "Everyone knows that poison is the way to go when you want to subtly kill someone," she replied, buckling her horse's saddle.

"How comforting to know. I shall never touch a single drink you give me," he told her dryly, smiling a small smile when he heard her tinkling laugh.

She swung easily into the saddle, watching him with a raised brow. "Well? Are we going or not?" she asked.

"I was under the impression you did not want my company. But, alas, for the sake of my people, I suppose I must," he replied dramatically, mounting his horse.

She rolled her eyes. "Has anyone ever told you that you are an annoying bastard?" she asked in irritation.

"No. But that hardly sounds like words for a princess," he replied as they eased into a trot.

She laughed again, shaking her head and causing her long ponytail to swish behind her, glinting in the sunlight in different shades of copper and mahogany.

"What's your mother like?" she asked curiously as they followed a path through the woods.

"A fair queen. Although, I can surely say that she does not know how to fight like you do," he replied, "where's your own mother? I thought I'd have seen her at the feast."

"She died in childbirth. My father tells me I was lucky to have survived," she replies easily.

"A fighter from the minute you were born into the world," he comments lightly, "I'm sorry about your mother."

She shrugged her slim shoulders. "Don't be. I never knew her. My grandmother helped my father raise me through the grief. He says she was a wonderful woman, but I'll never know," she replied neutrally.

"I never knew Illyria was so beautiful," he murmured as they continued on their path through the forest.

"Well you wouldn't, when all your father was concerned with was laying siege to it. I'm sure Alamut has some places that are beautiful like this," she replied, trying to keep the bite out her voice.

He frowned slightly. "No, I've lived there all my life, and I've never seen a place like this in Alamut," he told her as he continued to look around with interest.

"Tell me about your brothers," she said, looking over at him.

"What's there to tell? I'm sure you already know about all three of us," he said as he met her gaze.

"On the contrary. I know only rumours I've heard from the maids. In fact, I know that Richard is the eldest, Edward the middle prince and then there's you, the youngest prince," she replied.

"Why do you want to know?" he asked curiously.

"I have no siblings. I'm curious to find out about the bond that people claim the three of you have," she told him.

"Richard is the most level-headed of the three of us, quite literally a king in the making. Edward forever lives in his armour, and I, well, I enjoy teasing him. When we were younger I used to spit pomegranate seeds at him. Oh, he used to want to kill me. He'd chase me for hours on end around the castle," Sweeney started. He looked over to see that she was wearing a gentle smile on her face, and he was once again struck by her beauty.

"Well, that sounds better than the tales of the three barbaric brothers that share women between them," she said, looking over with a teasing smirk.

Sweeney felt his face flush an unattractive shade of red. "I-I never- We never- That never happened!" he managed to squeeze out.

She chuckled lightly. "I never said you did. Those are just some of the rumours that float around the three of you," she replied.

"Oh? So perhaps you know of the rumours about you being an old, shriveled up hag?" he quipped in return.

She waved her hand dismissively. "I created those rumours to start with. They were to ward off unwanted suitors," she told him.

He arched a brow. "Am I an unwanted suitor?" he asked her.

"Well now, that depends on how long you're going to remain a conceited, sexist bastard," she replied with a smirk, before nudging her horse into a canter and riding off ahead.

"I hope you brought food, because I won't be sharing any of mine!" she shouted as she rode off.

"And if I didn't?" he called back as he race after her.

"Pick an apple or something!" she replied, turning to stick her tongue out at him.

Sweeney felt something strange bubble in his chest as he raced after the princess. Whatever it was, he knew that life in Illyria could never get dull with her around.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Okay, so after some major writer's block, I've finally found some inspiration after watching Eragon. Hopefully, you dear readers enjoy this new concept.**

**Disclaimer: Only the plot is mine.**

XXX

In a spontaneous urge for exploration, the two ended up close to a small stream that was flowing out of a cave. Eleanor carefully scaled the rocks and climbed into the cave, with the young Prince hot on her heels.

"There's nothing up here. Come on, let's go," Sweeney said, grabbing her hand to urge her to leave.

"Wait, what's that?" she asked, dragging him over to what appeared to be a pile of rocks. She gently started to move them revealing two oddly shimmering red and silver stones. Puzzled, Sweeney reached out to touch one, but she grabbed his arm.

"Wait, what if it's dangerous?" she asked him. He rolled his eyes slightly, and when he reached out again, he saw her own hand reaching for the red one, even as she still held onto him tightly. The minute they both touched the smooth surface, a jolt passed through their systems and then the palms of their hands felt as though they were on fire. Eleanor yelped and let go of him, clutching her palm and biting her lip. He grabbed his wrist and looked at her, stunned.

Suddenly, their pain was interrupted by the sound of cracking. When they looked back at the two rocks, they were now glowing and then spiderweb cracks began forming on their surfaces. Before their very stunned royal eyes, the stones cracked open.

"What are they?" Sweeney asked, shaking out his hand.

Eleanor's eyes widened as she took a step closer and knelt. "I don't believe it… I thought they were extinct…" she murmured softly.

"What is it?" he asked impatiently.

"Dragons," she whispered, turning to him with a small, ruby red lizard with wings cupped in her hands. His own eyes wide, he stepped forward and crouched next to her, finding the other dragon, a silver one, lying among its eggshell.

He reached out his palm, pulling back when he noticed a strange symbol etched into it. "Eleanor, look at this…is this on your palm too?" he asked, showing her his hand. She looked at it curiously, and then held out her own palm. Sure enough, there, etched into the skin of her own hand was the same symbol.

"What do you think it means?" he asked her.

"Hmm, I'm not sure. We can check the library in the west wing though," she replied, "come on, grab your dragon and let's go."

Carefully, she clambered down the rocks and they walked swiftly back to where they had tied their horses. Eleanor's dragon had curled up along her arm, its tail wrapping round her wrist. They were quite heavy for newly hatched dragons, but then again, Sweeney did not know much about the topic. A short ride later, the two had arrived back at Illyria's vast castle. Sweeney was just about to ascend the steps when Eleanor pulled him away.

"What?" he asked.

"Do you really think we can just walk into the castle with two baby dragons unnoticed?" she asked him sarcastically.

"Oh. Well, how else do you get in?" he asked.

"Come on, I'll show you," she replied with a small smirk.

She led him out the stables and around the side of the castle, stopping in front of one of the towers. Glancing back at him for a moment, she reached forward, and pushed one of the bricks. A small passage opened, and Nellie slipped inside, the door closing ominously behind them once Sweeney had followed her.

Eleanor's dragon made a strange chirping noise, and she hushed it softly. From the dim lighting in the corridor, he saw her stroking its head fondly. He looked down to find his own dragon staring up at him with curious blue eyes. He was obviously the bigger of the two, his legs thicker and stronger looking. Sweeney was surprised to find the smooth feeling of the scales under his hand when he gently rubbed its head.

They walked for what seemed like ages, until finally, Eleanor stopped and pushed on a portion of the wall. It swung open to reveal the west wing library. She beckoned for him to follow and he did, watching as she made her way through the familiar halls and into the section that held books on myths and legends.

"Hmm, d- d- ah, here we go, dragons," she muttered, pulling out a fairly thick leather bound book. They carried it over to a table and sat together, the two dragons gently placed on the smooth wooden surface.

"I can't believe this is all it has on dragons," she said with a huff a few seconds later.

"What does it say?" he asks, shifting closer.

"Dragons are mythical creatures that look like lizards but with magnificent wings. They could grow up to the size of mountains, and came in the colours of gemstones. Extinct," she read from the book.

"Well, that was disappointing," he replied as he sat back in his chair.

Eleanor huffed and reached out a hand to scratch under her dragon's chin. It hummed softly, licking her wrist. She giggled and looked over at Sweeney, who was rubbing his dragon's tummy lazily. The silver dragon chirped, flicking its tail this way and that.

Suddenly, the doors to the library were thrown open, and in walked the two indignant kings.

"You two have been gone for hours! Where have you- what is that?!" King Abraham asked, his anger making him pull up short as he spotted the two young dragons.

Ferdinand looked wide-eyed at Abraham, before looking back at the two royals.

"They're dragons, Papa. We found them in the woods," Eleanor replied softly, cuddling the dragon to her chest as if to protect it.

Abraham looked startled.

"I never… I thought they were all dead…" he muttered to himself, beginning to pace.

"Not you alone, my friend, I did too," Ferdinand told him.

"Father… what's going on?" Sweeney asked as he stood.

"I'm afraid there is something we have kept from you, children. Something we never deemed appropriate to tell you about, but it seems to have become necessary now," Ferdinand told his son.

"Well…what is it?" Eleanor asked, looking from one king to the next.

Abraham let out a heavy sigh.


End file.
